Oh, Irving, you were so young and handsome when I saw you standing in your
Army uniform. I prayed that God would keep you safe, while I didn’t realize that
savages were ready to take your life as the bombs exploded and the tanks
roared among the starry and blue skies of France.
Many miles away from the din and awesomeness of man’s cruelty, I knelt and
prayed that some how, God could stop the bloodshed caused by one man’s greed.
Faraway, across the blue ocean was the White Cliffs of Dover, beyond human
The Commander roared, the waves pounded the shore. As from trenches above
thundered the weapons of war. Comrades fell, and the dead and dying were all
It seemed that it was your turn to feel the shock of armed weaponry. You fell and
was carried by your comrades to a vehicle for transportation to a unit which
provided emergency medical attention.
In your left pocket was a Bible in a metal case with a bullet hole in the corner.
You were no longer conscious, you were one of a number taken by plane to O’
Halloran Hospital in New York.. The wound was mortal and though we prayed,
God called you home on that day far removed from the beachhead of tragedy.
With heavy hearts, we stood that day in Sanford as your comrades paid tribute to
your supreme sacrifice.
Though life must go on, the vacant chair stands as symbol of life’s emptiness and
man’s cruelty and greed.
Written in 1945-